Of Friendships and Firewhiskey
by RosalieBrandstetter
Summary: Everybody believes that Ginny is so strong, that she has recovered so well from her ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny doesn't agree, and while she'll never admit it out loud she believes that she is broken. What she doesn't know is that she isn't the only tormented one at Grimmauld Place. Set during the Summer before Order of the Phoenix. Inspired by katja34's challenge.


**Of Friendships and Firewhiskey**

**Plot: Everybody believes that Ginny is so strong, that she has recovered so well from her ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny doesn't agree, and while she'll never admit it out loud she believes that she is broken. What she doesn't know is that she isn't the only tormented one at Grimmauld Place. Set during the Summer before Order of the Phoenix. Ginny and Sirius FRIENDSHIP. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books, movies or merchandise. Technically I don't even really own this plot. It is inspired by one of katja34's challenges from 'Ten Things You Never Knew about Ginny Weasley'. I suggest reading it :) **

**Enjoy!**

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Of Friendships and Firewhiskey

Ginny Weasley woke up with a start, sitting up straight and inhaling deeply in order to catch her breath. She ran her fingers through her hair; it was damp from the sweat. She grabbed her hair into a bun she looked over at the other bed in the room. On the bed was Hermione Granger, one of Ginny's closest friends. She was sleeping soundly, and Ginny sighed in relief. As close as they were she didn't want Hermione to know about this. About her weakness; the haunting dreams, memories and thoughts she'd had for the past four years. Ginny had worked hard at building a façade that was strong and happy, and she wasn't about to let that come crumbling down over a stupid nightmare. The image of dead chickens flashed through her mind. Stop it Ginny, she berated, pull yourself together!

Ginny's lips felt dry and cracked, and upon licking she discovered her mouth was dry to. I need a drink, she thought as she pulled the blankets off her legs. She quietly left the cold, dark room that made her feel so lonely. Although it was more than twice the size of her room back at the Borrow, the presence of the room she stayed in at Grimmauld Place was suffocating and made her feel claustrophobic. She tip toed down the stair in order to not wake the portrait of Lady Walburga Black, she'd had enough of that wicked witch's pureblood supremacy taunts. That and the fact that not only was her yelling incredibly unbearable, but it would also draw attention to the fact that someone was down stairs. It would draw attention to Ginny. Ginny didn't want to be asked questions, she just wanted to grab a glass of water and be alone.

At this late hour, Ginny anticipated that she would in fact be alone. However, upon entering the kitchen she established that she was not alone. Sitting at the far end of the table, facing her in the doorway, was Sirius Black. In front of him on the table were a scotch glass and a bottle of Firewhiskey. I wonder if he's drunk, she thought.

"Sirius," She acknowledged.

"Ginny," He nodded.

"I've just come to get a glass of water and I'll go," Ginny felt the need to explain as she walked towards the cupboard. She thought that she ought to leave Sirius to himself.

"Nonsense," Sirius protested, "Grab a glass, sit down, and have some Firewhiskey," He offered while using wandless magic to make the seat beside him offer itself for her to sit on.

"Uh, mum would kill me," Ginny responded, even though the sound of Firewhiskey was good.

"How would your mother find out? I'm not going to tell her, and you'd be pretty bonkers to tell her yourself. She is sound asleep, and we'll know if she's coming." Ginny noted that he made a good argument, and she didn't need to be told twice. She promptly grabbed another scotch glass and sat on the seat.

"What Molly doesn't know won't kill her," Sirius justified as he poured Ginny a drink and himself another. "It is a good thing to have a little trusted taste of these things you know, so when you do become of age you don't go getting ridiculously drunk," He sounded wise, like a parent. It surprised her. Ginny had already tried Firewhiskey, but she wasn't going to admit that.

"Thank you," She said as he handed her the glass. She looked up and there was a twinkle in his eye.

"I shouldn't be one to talk, of course, the amount of times that James and I had gotten completely plastered on this stuff," He exclaimed as he picked up the bottle of Firewhiskey. Ginny smiled, she was sure that Sirius had once been a very fun man, before the murder of Lily and James, before he was sent to Azkaban and before he spent two years on the run.

"What was Harry's dad like?" She found herself asking and then wishing she hadn't the moment the words were out of her mouth. "I'm sorry, that's a bit rude of me,"

"No, no, it's perfectly alright," He waved her off. "Where to begin, is all." She looked down at her drink.

"James was, probably one of the bravest men I knew. He was loyal, he was funny. He was my best friend and there was no one I trusted as much, other than perhaps Remus. Part of me always thought Peter was a bit of a rat, even before we became Animagus." Ginny has still thought it was ironic that Harry's dad and his friends had been the Marauders that George and Fred had worshipped, that it was ironic that they would in turn pass this map onto Harry. They thought she didn't know, but Ginny had a way of figuring out a lot of things.

"We were both gits, growing up, I'm not sorry for what I did to some people, but I can acknowledge it. He wasn't perfect, but he was probably the best friend that anyone could ask for. To Prongs," He toasted before gulping down the rest of his Firewhiskey.

"Another?" He asked her, as he went to pour himself another drink. She nodded; one more couldn't hurt, could it? Was it really that bad if it made her feel better about the bad things in her life?

"So what's your story?" He prompted, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"What?" She asked for clarification.

"What are you doing up late at night, getting a drink?" He asked further.

"I couldn't sleep," Ginny shrugged. Why did he care?

"Well, that's a bit obvious," Sirius stated. He didn't say anything else, and Ginny guessed that he was waiting for her to open or something. She sighed.

"I had a nightmare," She admitted softly.

"Oh," He said simply. She immediately felt silly, just a nightmare? She felt as though she was being judged, even though her rational side knew she wouldn't be. Almost fourteen years old and she couldn't handle a nightmare? Ginny felt the need to justify it, explain it to Sirius why it was so bad.

"It wasn't just any nightmare. I have it all the time, even when I'm awake sometimes. It not just a dream, it is my memories." Or was she just trying to justify it to herself?

"What are the memories of?" Sirius was intrigued now. He obviously didn't know about what had happened to her. It wasn't something that was spoken about. She sucked in a deep breath. Was she prepared to tell him? Would he pity her like her family did? There was really only one way to find out.

"The summer before I went away to Hogwarts, we obviously went shopping for my school gear. My dad had a fight with Lucius Malfoy," She paused as she noticed Sirius tense up, as he knew that it was going to be utterly horrible the moment Mr. Malfoy became involved. "They had a fight, and in that time, no one had noticed, but Malfoy had slipped a diary into my collection of books. I was none the wiser, I thought it was in there as a birthday present." Ginny took a moment to breath.

"I wrote in that diary every single day. And every single time I wrote in it, the diary wrote back. I didn't have any friends, so I guess I treated this diary like it was my friend. I didn't think anything of it." Ginny's eyes had become slightly watery; she ignored it and pressed on.

"I don't really remember much, there are a lot of black patches in my memory. I remember feathers and blood; I found out later that in my possessed state I'd killed Hagrid's chickens."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have been too happy about that," Sirius interjected, and Ginny allowed herself to smile.

"No, he wasn't, and soon the petrifactions started. First it was that cat, and then it was people. It was muggle borns. There was talk of this heir of Slytherin, and the Slytherin monster and I couldn't remember what I was doing at this time. The more scared I got, the more I wrote in the diary, and the more control it had."

"Lucius Malfoy planted the diary that contained a fraction of Tom Riddle's soul. It turns out my friend 'Tom', was really Lord Voldemort. I feel guilty, someone could have died, and I can't get it out my head." Ginny summarized. Sirius didn't say anything for awhile.

"You can't blame yourself Ginny," He said simply.

"That is what everyone else says." She responded. "They say not to worry, it is all okay now, no one died, I didn't do anything wrong. It isn't all okay, I'm not okay."

"Do you talk to your parents about it?" Sirius questioned.

"I tried to, and they hear, but they don't listen. I don't need to be reassured; I just need to be listened to. My mind was practically raped by the soul of the darkest wizard to ever exist."

"I understand how you feel; you're being babied over it. Here, have another Firewhiskey." Ginny had a hard time imagining anyone babying Sirius. He had to be in his mid thirties, even though he did look older. She didn't even say anything in response to his prompting of Firewhiskey. She just let him pour it. As if sensing her confusion, Sirius continued after putting the bottle down.

"I'm stuck in this house; I am a wanted criminal for a crime I didn't commit. I'm afraid that I might die in this second war, and have never lived because my life was taken from me before I could do anything with it. I want to leave here, I want to fight, but instead I'm forced to stay. I was a prisoner in Azkaban and now I am a prisoner in my own home because people are afraid I'll get caught."

"What was Azkaban like?" She asked impulsively. He smiled softly.

"It was dark and cold, there was no love," He paused, "I normally avoid talking about it because I don't think people would be able to understand unless they'd spent time there or worked with Dementors. I'm sure you'll have a bit of an understanding though, you could say it was similar to your experience with the diary. The Dementors, they invade and manipulate your mind and your thoughts and your memories. They feed off any joy you have and replace with despair. I was going crazy," Ginny nodded. Azkaban had always seemed like a frightening place and this just made it seem more real.

"I guess we're both a little bit crazy," She muttered.

"Just a bit," Sirius responded with a smile. Ginny yawned as the effects of the alcohol started to appear.

"I think I need to go to bed," She said.

"See, this is much better than a glass of water, it's made you tired again. Although I do suggest having a glass of water before you go to bed, I don't want you to wake up seedy because dear Molly will probably kill me and bring me back to life so I can suffer watching as she burns all my Firewhiskey." Ginny giggled, and agreed that it was a good idea. She gulped down a glass of water and went to leave for bedroom again. She turned around at the doorway.

"Sirius,"

"Yes Ginny,"

"Thank you, for you know listening, and the drink."

"It's okay Ginny, if you ever need to talk, my Firewhiskey and I will always be here.

"Always?" She queried.

"Yes, always. Night Ginny,"

"Night Sirius," And she left for bed.

Her first thought when Sirius died was to care for Harry, and then the night she sat up drinking Firewhiskey with Sirius came to her later. She hadn't cried about yet, how could she when it was someone she'd only for a year, someone who had dearer company. Upon that realization that she'd never get to sit and talk to Sirius again, she burst into tears. When the Weasleys went back to Grimmauld Place to ensure that they had all their things, she snuck out a bottle of Firewhiskey, and later that evening in the comfort of her bedroom she poured herself a drink. She sat on the windowsill looking out at the moon.

"To Padfoot," She toasted before taking a swig.

_Mischief Managed_.

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**I apologise if anyone seems a little out of character, I tried my best!**

**Pretty please leave a comment in the little box at the bottom of this page!**


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